Being Bad
by Max Alleyne
Summary: The perfect "good" couple toys with being bad...in the best of ways. Smutty Jott one-shot.


**Author's Note: **Okay, I couldn't resist a fun little Jott one-shot. Because who doesn't love a good couple trying to be bad?  
_

* * *

"Don't you ever just want to be…bad?" _

The question was echoing through Jean Grey's mind as she sat in the library, looking out the window. It was such an odd question for several reasons. For one, it didn't really make any sense to her. She was an X-man (X-woman?) and she saw evil all the time…why would she ever want to be bad? Of course, the other reason it baffled her was because it had been asked by Scott Summers, who was the picture-perfect, All-American good boy. So why in the world had he asked that question.

It bothered her, of course, because that was hardly a question that ever crossed her mind. She was a good kid; she always had been, and she didn't know how to be another way. She had never really wanted to be any other way, and Scott's suggestion that he did worried her just a little bit. Okay, it worried her more than just a little bit. They saw the evils of the world almost everyday of their lives. People they wanted to protect hated them, and others that were like them—mutants—wanted to use them to end the world. Why in the world would they ever want to be anything bad?

She glanced out the window, thinking of the fact that she had to return to college at the end of the week. It was ridiculous. She had been looking forward to seeing him for quite some time, only to come home and have him ask her if she ever wanted to be bad. It was also silly how much she was letting this stupid question affect her. She should be focusing on the medical terminology test she had to take the day she returned to school. Instead, all she could think of was that her boyfriend wanted to be bad, wanted her to be bad.

Jean rose from her place on the window seat and began to pace the floor of the library, before catching sight of herself in a mirror. Her long, red hair was pulled back out of her face so as to not bother her while she was studying. She was wearing blue jeans and a green blouse. _Yes,_ she thought, _I look very much like a good girl. I am a good girl._ _There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with being good. _

_Don't you just ever want to be…bad?_

She pulled her hair down out of its pony tail and began to run her hands through it nervously. The question just seemed so out of the blue, or at least it was for Scott. If, say, Remy had asked—in that silly, flirtatious way that he did when speaking to every female that inhabited the mansion (despite the fact that they all knew that he totally had a thing for Rogue)—it would not have seemed to strange. But this was Scott—her Scott. She had known him for…well, practically her whole life. Where had this question come from?

_Everything okay, Jean? _ Scott asked in her head.

_Yeah, fine, _she answered.

_You don't sound like it._

_Technically, you're can't 'hear' me, _she answered lightly, trying to cover her anxious thoughts.

_Seriously, Jean, are you alright? _

_Yes, I'm fine. I'm just frustrated with my studying. _

_Oh…well stop projecting._

_Sorry. _ Her tone was apologetic. Sometimes it was hard to not to project into his head. Because of their link, it was much easier for her to hear him, but it also made him more sensitive to her. She tried not to project her thoughts or feelings, but she wasn't always successful.

She sat back down on the window seat where she had been looking over her medical terminology, and tried to resume her studying. It was fairly easy, given that she knew her Latin roots, but there was just too much of it. It would be nice to just let it all go and climb into bed with Scott at the end of the day. That is, if she would stop pondering this strange question he had asked.

"Ugh," she groaned, dropping her head to the huge text book on the table. Finally giving up on studying, she slammed the book shut and tucked it under her arm before leaving the library in a huff. "I should not be stressing about this," she mumbled under her breath.

"Shouldn't be stressing about what?" a gruff voice asked from behind her. She jerked around, and ran smack into the brick wall that was Logan.

"Nothing. I have a test in my medical terminology class when I get back from spring break, and I can't seem to concentrate on studying."

"You know, it's called spring _break, _Red."

"I know. It's just a lot of remember."  
"You look tired," Logan said suspiciously.

_Well yeah, you wouldn't sleep well, either if your boyfriend had insinuated he wanted you to be "bad," either. What does that even mean? _ Instead of blurting her thoughts aloud, she just smiled and nodded. "I didn't really sleep well."

"I imagine spending the night with your boyfriend will do that to you." Her smile disappeared in the blink of an eye. Because the fact of the matter was, after his little remark, they had lain in silence for a while before she got up and left.

"How come I smelled him on you this morning?" Logan said. She could tell he was going in to what she thought of as "super protective big brother mode."

"Just because you could smell him on me doesn't mean that I spent the night with him," she snapped, too impatient to deal with his concern. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate it, she just didn't want to have to explain to her former teacher and probable future colleague that she was having issues in her relationship.

_There's definitely something wrong. I wonder what Summers did this time…I really should make sure she's okay..._Jean could hear his thoughts echoing after her as she walked down the hallway.

"I'm fine," she called over her shoulder in response to his thoughts.

She made it to her room, and tucked her text book into her bag and crawled into the bed, still pondering her boyfriend's earlier statement. She and Scott had been together for…a while, and he had never brought this up before. She clutched the covers tighter around her.

_Don't you ever just want to be…bad?_

No, she didn't. She had lost control of her powers once. She had felt the power that was locked away inside of her, and knew that she couldn't afford to be 'bad.' That power had a darkness related to it, a darkness that had to stay locked away. Sometimes, she could feel it pushing to get out, trying to knock down the doors that were holding it back. When she had lost control of her powers, she almost destroyed everything she loved. It wasn't that she didn't think she _could _be bad. It was that she was too afraid to think of what she could become if she toyed with it…even if it was just a little bit.

The reason it was bothering her so much was that Scott didn't recognize that. With that question, he showed her that he didn't realize—

"You're projecting so loudly I'm surprised the whole mansion can't hear you."

She sighed and pulled the covers more tightly around her, not ready to speak just yet. There were two dull thumps as Scott's shoes hit the floor, and then she felt pressure on the bed as he sat down on the end of it. He was still, and didn't move for a long moment. Jean could feel the worry coming off him in waves; it was an overwhelming, all-consuming worry that he felt for her. After a moment, she sat up, holding the blankets tightly.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be."

_Don't you ever just want to be…bad? _

He cringed, hearing his words echoing her mind. He knew she was trying not to project, but she was upset, and he was pretty determined to know why. A sharp pang of guilt tore through him as he realized what was bothering her. "I didn't mean to upset you," he said, his voice infinitely gentle.

"I don't understand…why would you ever want that?"

Scott moved to closer to her, and gently tried to pull the coverlet from her fingers. She continued to clutch them in a death, white-knuckled grip. Knowing that he was never going to be able to get her to let go, he instead cupped her chin in his large, calloused hands. His hands were warm and familiar, and it was would be too easy to just let go, throw her arms around him and promise to be anything he wanted. But she wouldn't—and couldn't.

Instead she took his hands in hers and asked again. "Why would you ever want to be bad? We see evil all the time, and I can't understand why you would ever want to be a part of that?"

As soon as the words passed her lips, she felt embarrassment and…an odd excitement fill Scott's thoughts. His face was the beet red, and he was chewing on his lip as he always did when he was nervous. This was not the reaction she had expected. She had expected something darker, maybe guilt or shame, but never excitement or embarrassment.

"I—um—well, you see—I—when you..." He was at a complete loss of words, and for the first time since he had asked the trouble-causing question, she smiled. It warmed her to the tips of her toes to know that no one else got to see this side of him. The occasional, unsure Scott Summers that came out only when he was with her. Of course, there was another side of him—the more naked side of him—that no one got to see, either, and that was just fine with her. She liked keeping his tight butt all to herself.

After several long, stuttering-filled minutes, he finally looked at her and asked miserably, "Can't you just…look in there and _see_?" Taking pity on her red-faced boyfriend, she began to sift through his thoughts, and when she found what he had been talking about, she turned the same color as her hair.

"Oh."

"You had gone to college and I just…and cold showers stopped working so I…" The poor guy was too embarrassed to even finish his sentence. Jean, of course, was too embarrassed to actually answer. It took her several minutes to formulate a response, but then it was all lost as the words just poured out of her mouth.

"You looked at _porn_! With black _leather_?"

"You weren't here and…I missed you, and it just…unbearable, so I tried to…"

"Compensate?"

"That's not—it's not the same—I—you—"

She silenced him with a kiss. She dropped the covers that she had been clutching like a shield and threw her arms around his neck as she kissed him. He pressed closer, holding her as tightly as he could. In that moment, he realized that he would never be able to get enough of her. It was like he had been stranded in the desert, and she was a tall glass of water. He needed her.

Without breaking the kiss, she pulled him down on top of her. He tangled his fingers in her hair, the way he had been wanting to do for months. The feel of her beneath him was driving him crazy, and he could feel his body responding. She was pressing her hips against him, and he wasn't sure that he was going to be able to control himself. Before things could get worse, he broke the kiss and pulled away.

"We can't—not now—"

"Right," she answered breathlessly. "Logan's awake."

"And it's almost time for dinner."

"Afterwards?"

"Hell yes."

"Right, I should…study," she said, eyeing her enormous textbook.

"And I need a shower."

* * *

It was ten thirty—half an hour past curfew—when Scott heard a light knock on his door. He and Jean were far past knocking, so he pulled on a shirt and answered the door. Standing at his door was a different Jean than he had ever seen before. She was wearing a long, black trench that covered her from neck to ankles. This was definitely something that he had never seen before.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"Of—Of course," he answered. She pushed past him into his bedroom, and he quickly shut the door behind her. She pulled the trench coat open to reveal a black leather bodysuit that was so tight it appeared to be painted on. It hugged every curve of her body, showing off every one of those muscles she worked so hard to keep in shape. His jaw dropped, and he just stood there for a minute, unable to move.

"Are you just going to stand there?"

"What—Where did you—"

"No questions," she said huskily, pulling him to her and kissing him roughly. He grabbed her ass and pulled her closer; the feel of the leather beneath his hands was enough to make him lose his mind. The bond they shared was sizzling with the red-hot attraction they shared, which only added fuel to the fire.

She pulled away long enough to push him back onto the bed before straddling him. He wanted to touch her, more than anything else in the world, but she pinned his hands at his side and resumed kissing him. He pulled his hands free and tangled them in her hair, getting lost in the moment. She was wearing leather and kissing him and on top of him and he just wanted _more…_

"Oh!" Jean cried out as he pulled her hair a bit too much. For a split second, it broke the mood, but she was determined to give him what he wanted and she quickly pushed the slight pain aside and eyed him with a raised brow. "That hurt. I think maybe I should punish you for that."

"God, yes."

She nipped at his neck, hard. He couldn't keep back a grunt of pain, and again, she pulled away, afraid that she had actually hurt him. His eyes were glazed over with pleasure, so it obviously wasn't a serious offence. It was hard for her to remember that she was supposed to be domineering and naughty. It wasn't what she was used to, and every time she heard a little grunt of pain, she had to remind herself that it was—apparently—a good thing.

She pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it across the room. He tried to unzip her bodysuit, but she swatted his hand away with a sharp slap. "Did I tell you that you could do that?" she asked. He shook his head. "I didn't think so."

To further his torture, she ground her hips against him. His breathing was harsh and shallow, and his hands tightened in the sheets, trying to keep from moaning aloud. After a while, it didn't work anymore, and it seemed that she couldn't help herself either. She quickly and quite roughly divested him of his pants. His hands fumbled with the zipper, and quickly had the suit unzipped. Her skin was silky smooth, and the more of it that was exposed, the more it drove him mad. He started pulling, trying to get it off of her. It didn't come easily. Instead, it stuck to her skin.

"How did you get into this thing?" he asked, marveling at how hard it was to get it off. Both of them were working at it. She wiggled, while he pulled it down. Unfortunately, it was a slow going process, and it looked really quite amusing.

"You're the one who wanted the black leather," she said, taking a light nip at his neck.

"And it's very nice…just not very practical." With a cry of triumph, he finally pulled the suit down to the floor. As she tried to step out of it, she got her feet caught in the mess and lost her balance. Luckily, before she could hit the floor, Scott caught her and set her gently in the bed. "It does teach you patience, though."

With her completely exposed before him, he began to kiss her from head to foot until she was putty in his hands. It had been too long for both of them, and they were reveling in the feel of being together again. They were familiar to each other. They knew just the right places to touch, to nip, to kiss to get the reaction they were looking for. Amid many gasps and sighs of pleasure, they blocked out all the rest of the world. He pushed her to the brink of pleasure, and she pushed back until it became unbearable. They reached the peak of pleasure and together, cried their release.

Afterwards, he held her in his arms, and they were quickly asleep, entertained with dreams of black leather.

* * *

They were rudely awakened in the morning by a sharp knock on the door. Scott opened his eyes and looked at the alarm clock, and fear tore through him. They had slept right through their Danger Room session this morning, and he was willing to bet his life that a very angry Logan was on the other side of that door.

_Jean! Wake up! Logan's outside the door!_

Panic tore through her. Logan was going to know what was going on and tear them apart. He could do it, quite literally. Hopefully he would take mercy on them and just decide to work them to death in the Danger Room. Crap, she needed to get dressed. Clothes, where were her clothes.

Dread filled her when she realized that the only clothes she had in the room were the ones she had worn over the night before: that damn leather suit. In desperation, she pulled it on, though not without a struggle. Scott pulled on a pair of lounge pants and a shirt to hide the nail marks in his back. After triple checking to make sure everything was covered that needed to be covered, he opened the door.

"You missed your Danger Room session," Logan growled.

"Yes…I overslept."

"You and Jean, both."

"Oh," Scott answered, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"I know she's in there. There's no sense in trying to hide it."

To say that Logan was shocked when she revealed herself to him would be quite the understatement. He was completely dumbfounded for at least thirty seconds. Then his face turned a bright red, and she could tell he was trying not to threaten them.

"What are you wearing?"

"This would be a bodysuit…sir," she said, unable to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

"I see that. And you have it on because…?"

"It was a prototype for our new uniforms. I wanted to show Scott, because while I think that leather definitely has some perks, like extra durability, it also constricts movement. I mean, I can barely move in this thing."

"Yes, and we need full range of motion in a fight, wouldn't you say?" Scott said, grabbing Jean's excuse and running with it.

"That would be important, yeah," Logan said through gritted teeth.

"So, I think we should definitely stick with the spandex that we have now," Jean piped up. Logan just nodded and walked away without another word. With a sigh of relief, they shut the door quickly. They had managed to escape punishment…a miracle that they celebrated with a kiss.

Their celebration only lasted a brief time, as they were again interrupted by a pounding on the door. Before they could open it, they heard Logan's voice.

"You two have Danger Room sessions, three times a day for the rest of the week. Come prepared today a noon. Oh, and Summers, see Storm about picking up your prototype uniform." With that, Logan left for good.

"Seriously? Prototype uniform?" he asked, looking at his girlfriend in disbelief.

"I wasn't lying. I found this in the basement."

"Leather uniforms? Seriously…who thought of that dumb idea?"

"I don't know, but I'm thinking we should send them a thank you note," Jean said with a smile.

"I'm thinking you're probably right…You know, we have time before we have to be in the Danger Room..."

* * *

**Author's Note: **So there it is. A smutty little one-shot. I hope you liked it. Let me know. Please review. Please, please.


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